Illusion of freedom in Herat : l'illusion de la liberte

Herat, 6:21 PM.

Work is over. For the first time in 2 weeks, I've been productive, really productive. Why? I'm not sure. But the feeling is liberating. On the 4th floor of my 5 star hotel which I am sharing with 6 other expats, I stand on the balcony, my hair liberated and free in the wind. In my ears, my iPod is blasting James Blunt, then Radiohead. Is it the fact that for the first time in a month, I am out without a veil? Maybe. Or maybe my tension is ebbing out. One way or another, I am thankful for it. As I write this, Ray Charle's "You are so beautiful" is playing on my iTunes, and if it weren't completely crazy, I'd say he is singing for me, and me only. Life can be beautiful, even in Afghanistan. All one needs... is a little wind, and a little music.

Le travail de la journee est fini. Pour la première fois en 2 semaines, j'ai été productive, vraiment productive. Pourquoi ? Je n'en suis pas sûre. Mais le sentiment me libère. Sur le 4ème étage de l'hôtel 5 etoiles que je partage avec 6 autres expats, je me tiens sur le balcon, mes cheveux libérés et jouant dans le vent. Dans mes oreilles, mon iPod souffle James émoussé, puis Radiohead. Est-ce le fait qui pour la première fois en mois, je suis dehors sans voile ? Peut-être. Ou peut-être que c'est mon stress qui baisse. D'une facon ou 'une autre, j'en suis reconnaissante. Au moment ou j'écris ceci, "You are so beautiful" de Ray Charles joue sur mon iTunes, et si ce n'était pas complètement fou, je dirais qu'il chante pour moi, et moi seulement. La vie peut être belle, même en Afghanistan. Tout ce dont on a besoin... c'est d'un peu de vent, et d'un peu de musique.

The Beaver

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Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

ALIVE !!!

En Francais : ICI

I am alive. In Kabul, but alive.

Honestly, Afghanistan, is better than what is shown on TV.

I went to Herat last week, a frustrating trip, almost a waste of time because it took 48 hours to travel, the vast majority of my time waiting for delayed flights.

It isn’t easy to be a woman in this country. It may be a stereotype, but it’s true. Our group included of:

A. Two women and 5 men, or,

B. Two Caucasians and 5 Asians, or,

C. Three nationals and four expatriates, or,

D. Three North-Americans and four South-Asians.

The two girls? Me and a Chinese-American, covered both from head to toe, and abandoned on a bench by the men, our migration a story in itself:

- I sat with a colleague, male, a Sri Lankan who passes for local. Killer glances mortals from the Nationals, I migrate to sit with the other member of the weaker sex.

- The two chicks sit and chat with a colleague male seated behind them, a bearded American. Killer glances, take two. The chicks tune it down and await the flight impatiently.

- Take three, killer glances. Afghanis hate us for occupying a bench (oh, would it be reserved for the stronger sex?) and a national colleague (adorable) warns us of our necessary migration towards the girl section, a tight space with missing seats, and or a soldier-guard who directs Afghani women like cattle. Lip bitten and sour comment plastered, we migrate.

I sit on a step, and wait for the flight. Nearby, an Afghani woman sit by me, her superb tailorsuit hidden under her veil which goes down to her ankles. I smile, she smiles. She speaks to me in Dari, I reply English, both try to be understood. Not easy, and not the last time it happens. It should be said that the women of Afghanistan are eager to speak to the foreign women, but the language is both barrier and insulation. My frustration is large. If I return here, I will learn dari, to be able to communicate with my Afghani sisters.

In Kabul, my life is a long river of boredom. One would say that nothing really works, or happens. It’s Liberia, Haiti, it is imprisonment of both body and soul, the meals in communities, the shared office, common commuting, the absence of a personal life, of personal time. More than the veil, it is the feeling of being in a fishbowl that stifles me.

Rare moments of happiness are felt, laughing around a clandestine bottle of wine, risked teasing, but the essential is the boredom, which I accept with Aldous Huxley’s philosophy.

Your true traveller finds boredom rather agreeable than painful.
It is the symbol of his liberty - his excessive freedom.
He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, goal almost with pleasure.

My down time, I spend it reading, watching movies, writing. What is hard, is to write about what I experience here. To confront oneself with this reality, to write it, is both tedious and vaguely painful.

I stifled a tear when my plane, on the way to Herat, made a stopover in Kandahar. The Canadian flag floated high and strong at the airport, and the feeling if generated in me, the sight of the CAF planes, remains confused in my mind. A mixture of sadness, regret, and anger, I believe.

I don’t hate Afghanistan, nor the Afghans. But this country fills me with a great sadness with I can’t wait to forget a little by returning home.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Vivante !!! (English post to come soon)

Je suis vivante. A Kabul, mais vivante.

Honnêtement, l’Afghanistan, c’est mieux que ce qu’on en dit à la télé.

Je suis allée a Herat la semaine dernière, un voyage frustrant, presqu’une perte de temps car on a passe 48 heures à voyager, la vaste majorité à attendre des vols retardes a l’aéroport.

Il ne fait pas bon être femme dans ce pays. C’est un cliche, mais c’est vrai. Notre groupe était compris de :

a. Deux femmes et 5 hommes, ou,

b. Deux caucasiens et 5 asiatiques, ou,

c. Trois nationaux et quatre expatries, ou,

d. Trois nord-américains et quatre sud-asiens.

Les deux filles ? Moi et une sino-américaine, couvertes toutes les deux et abandonnées par les hommes sur un banc, la migration une histoire en soi :

- je suis assise avec un collègue, male, un Sri-Lankais qui fait couleur locale. Regards mortels des locaux, migration pour m’assoir avec l’autre membre du sexe faible.

- Les deux nanas sont assises et discutent avec un collègue male assis derrière elles, un américain barbu. Regards mortel, prise deux. Les nanas de taisent et attendent l’avion avec impatience.

- Prise trois, regard mortels. Les afghans nous en veulent d’occuper un banc (oh, serait-il réservé au sexe fort ?) et un collègue national (adorable) nous avise de notre nécessaire migration vers la section des filles, un espace tout serre ou les sièges manquent, et ou un soldat-garde-chiourme dirige les afghanes comme du bétail. Lèvre mordu et commentaire acerbe ravales, nous migrons.

Je m’assois sur une marche et j’attends le vol. À cote de moi s’assoit une afghane, une femme comme moi, son tailleur superbe sous son voile qui descend jusqu'à ses chevilles. Je lui souris, elle me sourit. Elle me parle en dari, je lui réponds en anglais, on essaye de se comprendre. Pas facile, et pas la dernière fois. On dirait que les femmes d’Afghanistan sont désireuses de parler aux femmes étrangères, mais la langue est barrière, isolation. Ma frustration est grande. Si je reviens ici, je parlerai dari, pour pouvoir communiquer avec mes sœurs afghanes.

A Kabul, ma vie est un long fleuve d’ennui. On dirait que rien ne fonctionne, rien ne se peut. C’est le Liberia, Haiti, c’est l’emprisonnement du corps et de l’esprit, les repas en communautes, le bureau partage, le transport commun, l’absence de vie, de temps personnel. Plus que le voile, c’est la sensation d’être un poisson dans un bocal qui m’étouffe.

De rares moments de bonheur se font sentir, des rires autour d’une bouteille de vin clandestine, des taquineries risquées, mais l’essentiel est la, l’ennui, que j’accepte avec la philosophie d’Aldous Huxley.

Your true traveller finds boredom rather agreeable than painful.
It is the symbol of his liberty - his excessive freedom.
He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure.

« Le vrai voyageur trouve l’ennui plus agreeable que douloureux.

C’est le symbole de sa liberte, de son excessive disponibilite.

Il accepte son ennui, quand il vient, non seulement avec philosophie, mais presque avec plaisir.»

Mon temps d’ennui, je le passe a lire, regarder des films, écrire. Ce qui est dur, c’est d’écrire ce que je vis ici. Se confronter a cette réalité que je trouve dure, l’écrire, c’est douloureux et vaguement pénible.

J’ai ravale une larme lorsque mon avion, en route pour Herat, a fait escale a Kandahar. Le drapeau canadien flottait haut et fort a l’aéroport, et le sentiment que cela m’a cause, la vue des avions des CAF, restent confus dans mon esprit. Un mélange de tristesse, de regret, de colère, je crois.

Je ne hais ni l’Afghanistan, ni les Afghans. Mais ce pays me remplit d’une grande tristesse qu’il me tarde d’oublier un peu en rentrant au pays.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Security update

7 June 2007 - Situation in Brief

Movement Status, Kabul – “Normal Movement”

Min of Health Workers released by Taleban

Security Incidents

Southern Region

Kandahar, Zabul

ISAF Casualties: 06 June, Kandahar Province, Kandahar District – two ISAF soldiers have been killed in two separate incidents in the area; no further details provided.

IED/Ambush: 06 June, Kandahar City , (District 7, Kokaran Area) - late in the evening a police convoy was subjected to an IED strike followed by an ambush (small arms); the vehicle that was hit was carrying ammunition which exploded; two other vehicles were extensively damaged; two policemen are reported missing.

Contact: 06 June, Kandahar Province, Maruf District – police were in contact with a group of insurgents; one insurgent was killed and another injured; four motor cycles and four VHF radios were seized.

IED: 06 June, Kandahar Province, Shorabak District – about midday a Border Police vehicle was subjected to an IED strike; two policemen were killed; vehicle extensively damaged.

IED: 06 June Kandahar Province, Arghandab District – a vehicle belonging to an Afghan private security company was subjected to an IED strike; three guards were injured; vehicle was extensively damaged.

Anti-tank Mine Located: 06 June, Kandahar Province, Zhari District - police located and later defused an anti-tank mine which had been recently planted on the main road.

Abductees Released by Taleban: 07 June, Kandahar Province, Kandahar District – the Min of Public Health has apparently confirmed that three health workers and their driver have released by the Taleban; four health workers and their driver were abducted at the end of March whilst involved on a vaccination program in a camp for IDP in Kandahar area; in exchange for the release of the MoPH workers the government released the body of Mullah Dadullah, the Taleban commander who was killed last month in Helmund Province; the fifth abductee is reported to have been decapitated on Tuesday; a Taleban spokesman says the body is in the Kajaki District from where the relatives should recover it.

Attack: 06 June, Zabul Province, Daychopan District – during the course of the morning the district centre was attacked; ISAF and Afghan army units responded; engagement lasted about three hours; one policeman was killed; two attackers/insurgents were injured.

IED: 06 June, Zabul Province, Qalat District (Kakaran Area) – a police vehicle was subjected to an IED strike; the device had been hidden in a roadside hand-cart; two policemen were injured; vehicle extensively damaged.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Some quick news rapids, I am well and safe.

So 2 trips to Herat are planned:

- a 24 hours stay for the entrance meeting on June 6,
- Departure of the team for Herat planned the week of June 17 for two weeks.

The first stint allowed me to ascert a few things:
1) Herat airport is a catastrophe ;
2) UN flights do get cancelled or delayed ;
3) Peshawar is a depressing place (at least, the airport) ;
4) Herat is pretty ;
5) I will be staying in a 5 star hotel

Afghanis for the moment seem to be very nice people. There are in Kabul the pleasant places to take a meal - on the exterior it looks like nothing, but the garden, once one enters, is very pleasant. It is if the restaurants were to wear the burka.

Myself, I wear the Kameez (long Pakistani tunic) and a scarf on my head and shoulders, or a abayah (a long monk like dress) with a scarf to be in agreement with the local culture. But as soon as I am at the hotel, the office or in an expat restaurant, buh bye decorum.ABAYAH

KAMEEZ

Yes, the cover, it is exhausting, and somewhat unpleasant. My colleague, a girl who usually adapts well, seems to have trouble this time. It is says much. I acknowledge that the abayah is a little much, but when I am satisfied with the paki look.

Environment with the team is good, we have a lot of challenges so we really stick together.

I do not smell myself any direct threats, but I acknowledge to have seldom seen as many AK-47. It is a little distressing. This said, as these machine-guns are most of the time destines to my protection, so I try to make abstraction of it. Not always obvious.

I give the context, but I repeat it, I feel safe. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !

Painting my nails in Kabul

I arrived in Kabul, I'm fine, I am in a comfortable hotel, and will post more tomorrow.

My flight was ok - but I almost missed it. I re-fell asleep after my alarm rang. I slept through the better part of it, but not before I made friend, a Attache working at the French Embassy in Kabul. Knowing people is key in this business.

Kabul is fine but food is terrible. The weather seems to be erratic - freakin' hot by day, freakin' cold at night. The desert thing, if you will. Wearing a burka in broad daylight must be unbearable. The hijab is already a pain, I'll admit.

The picture I am using for the header, I didn't take, but it is true - this is what Kabul looks like from the sky. From the ground there is barely any thing to see - low mud houses, that's pretty much it.

My hotel looks like crap from the outside but is actually pretty nice inside. There is a garden, a gym, and a restaurant. My only qualm is the food. Meat is difficult to avoid. And boiled beef is yucky.

It took a while for Internet to get hooked up, so I had time to give myself a manicure and a pedicure. Strange first activity for Kabul, if you ask me.

Tomorrow, work. I'll know whether or not I go to Herat, and for how long if I do.

The Beaver

My guest map is wonderful ! And you'd all be wonderful to post, all of you lurk mode readers!
Thanks and may the winds of Fate blow your way !